White Flowers
by Goblin Cat KC
Summary: repost; A young boy and his dog meet Miyu late one night. (tearjerker)


White Flowers

by KC

Disclaimers: Vampire Princess Miyu belongs to Narumi Kakinouchi and various other licensers. Not me. No copyright infringement is intended nor is any profit derived.

warning: tear jerker

The road to the cemetery was dark. There were some street lamps back up the road, but near the entrance the only light came from the bright spot where the clouds covered the moon and the occasional lightning that crawled across the sky. He stepped into the cemetery and walked along the path, past the rows of tombstones as big as he was. Something sharp jabbed his bare foot and he looked down, but there was so much mist that he couldn't see the ground. The mist swirled around him and curled through the cemetery, stretching out and coming to rest over and over. Closed buds of white flowers lay scattered about the ground, just poking out of the mist, and they seemed to glow as if something inside them kept them lit.

He heard nothing but his own breathing, harsh and raspy from his long walk. Jumping and hiding behind trashcans and bushes made the walk harder, but he couldn't risk someone catching him. They'd take him home, or worse they'd make him show them what he carried in his hands. And then they might throw it away.

The cemetery was big, bigger than he'd ever imagined. He'd only been there once to see his grandfather, but he hadn't seen him. Only a stone. His mother had cried when he said that, and she said he was there but just to look at the stone. He hadn't argued, it was strange to see his mother cry, but he knew his grandfather wasn't in a stone. He was him, somewhere, but not there.

Halfway inside, he stopped. His feet were sore and his legs were cramped and he still had to make it home before his parents woke up, although that would be downhill at least and nothing to carry. He looked around and found a space without stones. He walked over and knelt down, half-disappearing in the mist. His bundle, nearly as big as he was, he set beside himself. Even though he couldn't see his hands he started to dig. The earth was cold and wet, but that made it easier. As he plunged them into the receiving earth, his fingers hit small stones that made him start to cry. He tossed them out of his way and kept digging. Dirt got under his fingernails and started to hurt. Now that his breathing had slowed, he heard crickets chirping all around him. Thunder rumbled above him, but low, even when the lightning flashed. It felt like the sky was breathing.

"What are you doing?"

He yelled and fell sideways, away from the voice. No one else had come up. He hadn't heard anyone. "Who are you?"

The strange girl didn't answer. She looked like she had just come out of bed too, with that ribbon around her leg that made him think she wasn't wearing any shoes either. And just like the white flowers, her skin seemed to glow, at least a little. Like if she was sick.

"Don't tell on me," he said. "I just wanted to bring him here. Don't make me go home yet."

"Him?" Without asking, she sat beside him and looked at the bundle he could hardly make out in the mist, as if she could see through the swirling fog. "You're burying something."

"Uh-huh." He kept digging. If she wasn't saying anything, he could ignore her.

"May I see?"

He stopped and looked at her. "He's dead."

"I know. May I?"

Biting his lip, he turned his head sideways at her. "You won't grab him or run off?"

"I promise."

"...okay."

She smiled and lifted the top corner of the rag. Underneath was back and head of a dead dog, its gray fur smeared with dirt. Its eyes were closed and one paw up under its jaw, as if it were sleeping. Only sleeping.

"He looks like he was already buried," she said.

"He was."

Tears squeezed out from his eyes. A small pile of dirt rose out of the mist, and he decided the hole was big enough. He raised his cut, bruised hands and covered the dog again, then set him in the hole. He started to cover it.

"Dad buried him. In the backyard. He got a stone and everything." He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, streaking his face with grave soil. "He said he was old even when I was born. That I'd have a new puppy, one that could run around with me. And that he'd be in his grave forever."

"Then why'd you--"

"'Cause I don't want a new puppy. I want him. And he's not there anyway. He's not here. He's somewhere else, he's not in a stone. I don't wanna pretend."

She nodded and sat back. "I see."

He smoothed the dirt over. Grass would eventually grow over it, but for now the ground was barren. He kept running his fingers over it, sliding them through the dirt like it was fur. "I just want him back. Him, as he was. I wanna be with him."

"I can do that for you."

For a moment the tears stopped. He looked at her and noticed that her eyes were yellow. She smiled, and her eyes seemed to glow like the lightning overhead. "What?"

"I can let you be with him, forever. You'd never be separated again."

"That's impossible." He shook his head and frowned. "You're lying. Dead things don't come back."

"You said it yourself, he's not here. He's somewhere else. Would you like to be with him?"

"I..." He stared at the grave that held his dog. "You can't..."

"Do you love him?" she asked. "Would he want you with him?"

Playing in the sun. Lying in the grass together. A cold nose on his hand, the sudden weight at the foot of the bed. Table scraps and playing ball and catch the stick and trip the boy holding the stick and pounce on the dog.

Tears seemed to cut off his voice. He couldn't make himself speak, but he nodded once. He screwed his eyes tight and wiped the tears away again. Cool and strong, her arms wound around him and drew him closer to her. The lightning and the crickets faded away until he couldn't hear anything but her. Her breath hissed against his ear and there was a small sting on his throat.

And then he wasn't in the cemetery anymore. Big paws had knocked him flat on the grass and a wet tongue licked at his face. He laughed and opened his eyes. The fur was still a little gray, the black eyes a little milky, but it was him, warm and soft and heavy. All thoughts of the girl and her promise faded until they weren't even a memory, and he flopped on his back with his dog beside him, and together they watched clouds float by. All around them, white flowers filled the field and made a soft pillow for his head.


End file.
